


Midnight

by LieselAckerman



Series: Midnight [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abduction, Before the fall of Wall Maria, F/M, Human Trafficking, Mentions of miscarriage, Rise to Power, Sex Slavery, Underage Sex, Underground
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10589784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieselAckerman/pseuds/LieselAckerman
Summary: Shizuka Kuro, a young girl forced into prostitution in the Underground, must choose between a life of poverty and misery or rising to become the most powerful woman in all of the Walls.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Attack on Titan or any of Hajime Isayama's characters.

"An Oriental?" He repeats, voice flat and unconvinced.

"Yes. We told you that already. She was trying to steal bread when we stumbled upon her in Shiganshina."

The gruff sounding voice pauses for a moment. Suddenly, the door creaks open and a man enters the room.

I feel his eyes roam my bruised body. From my position on the itchy thin mattress on the floor, I'm only able to see his boot-cladded feet. With a heavy sigh, he bends down and rolls me over. His pale green eyes, outlined by distinct wrinkles, latch onto mine, staying there before looking away to examine me. He forces my mouth open to check for rotting teeth - which there are none - and checking my face, inspecting the bruises I received from my two kidnappers.

"You handled it too roughly-"

"The bruises will heal, sir. She didn't give us much of a choice in the matter-"

"And it's a child," he raises his voice, glancing back at the two men standing in the doorway. His hand finds my thigh and he gives it a light squeeze before yanking my tattered dress up to my hips.

A weak and scared moan, which I'm ashamed of, escapes my mouth. He stops his inspection to look up at my eyes again. Filling his pale green eyes is a calm, yet stormy, cloud unlike any I've ever seen before. In an attempt to get him to stop touching me, I bend my long legs up towards my trunk and squeeze them together. Effortlessly, however, he parts my legs. Slowly, serpent-like even, his eyes lower to my covered nether region. Gently, he runs his hand over me, pressing down in the middle to push on the small bud.

I choke back a scream as tears burn my hazel eyes.

"…I see," he finally speaks, withdrawing his hands and standing back up. He turns to face the two men again. "It isn't a purebred, but it is an Oriental nonetheless… How much?"

Before he can name his price, the door squeals as it closes, blocking his voice.

My tears finally fall down onto my cheeks. A choked sob wedges itself in my throats and I can hardly breathe.

"Saizo…," I curdle out my brother's name. Of course, he isn't here to hear me call for him. He was lucky and escaped after we were separated.

The rotting wooden door creaks again as it opens for a second time. The older man who touched me comes over and pulls me to my feet. I wobble unsteadily, trying to gain my balance after days of not standing.

"It'll be tall," he notes, looking me up and down. In an abrupt motion, he places his rough hands firmly in my hips. "Perhaps good for breeding too, when the time comes."

Without so much as an acknowledgment to me, he yanks me by my arm out of the dark room and towards another door. The other men greedily count their money; decaying teeth flashing under black gums. I don't realize that I've stopped to stare until the older man tugs my arm again. "If you do happen to find the boy again," raucous voice bellows, his hand leaving my arm to grip my shoulder, "I'd like to purchase him as well."

"By now," the leader sighs, following us outside, "I'm sure someone has probably taken him, or at least cut his fucking paws off for stealing."

There's no longer a sky to look up at and the only light that's provided are small lanterns atop tall lampposts that scatter the area. Shack-like buildings litter dirt streets along with few dirty merchants and children without shoes.

"Thanks," the man with rotting teeth begrudgingly says, turning back to his shack as the old man drags me away through dirty alleys and streets. We turn a countless amount of times. Occasionally, he threatens to hit me if I don't keep up.

Walking down a set of old stone stairs, we walk through a narrow path with rats and stray animals. Dirty children with their ribs showing beneath their skin play in the mud with one another. Women, most half clothed and dirty, call to the men that come through.

Making a left, we approach a building that, while looking similar to the others, sits alone and away from all of the activity.

Entering the building, the scent of sweat and musk hits me like a cannonball. Further in the house, we hear low grunting in tune with the squawking of old bed springs. A woman giggles and sighs her enthusiasm.

A door shuts loudly behind me. I whip around, only to be met by the wild eyes of the man who has purchased me. His green orbs are filled with curiosity and lust - like a cat who has finally cornered a mouse.

With each thunderous step he takes towards me, I feel myself growing smaller and smaller. He reaches his hand out to touch me again and though I try to move away, it is as if I am in a nightmare and am moving in slow motion.

"What's your name?" He asks me, cupping my chin in between his index finger and thumb.

"…Shizuka," I hesitate to answer, struggling not to quiver under his questioning gaze.

"Is that really your name? Or is that just what those two idiots told you to say?"

I frown even more, casting my gaze down to my feet no sooner than he lets go of my face. He walks over to a small table in the corner. A bottle filled with dark contents sits on top and he takes a long sip from it before setting it back down.

"My name is Shizuka," I repeat, using the same tone and volume as I had before. A low grumble escapes from the base of his throat as he looks back over at me.

"So you really _are_ an Oriental," he muses aloud. "Today is my lucky day then."

Passing me, he takes a seat at the foot of his bed and gestures for me to go to him. When I don't, he scowls and pulls me to him. "It's in your best interest to do as I say," he chides calmly, looking over my arms. "Because it depends solely on me if you survive here."

He glances up just in time to see me open my mouth to try to speak with an expression so threatening that I fear he'll try to snap my neck if I even utter a sound.

"It won't be difficult for you to earn your keep here," he begins, lifting the worn down fabric of my dress up and over my shoulders before discarding it in a nearby corner. Feeing uncomfortable, I wrap my arms around my bare chest only for him to throw them back down to my side. "So long as you follow instructions, that is."

Heat rises to my cheeks as he gawks at my my flat torso. He grasps my arm tightly with his left hand, so that I don't try to run away, while his right runs across my nonexistent breasts and down my stomach to my navel.

Wordlessly, he slips his hand down the fabric of my underwear.

"If you fight me or so much as whimper, I'll hurt you."

I gulp down the large lump - that was most likely a sob - in my throat.

Abruptly, he removes his hand and uses it to unbutton his pants. His left hand still gripped around my arm, he forces me down between his knees. A heavy hand strokes my black hair as if to encourage or comfort me.

Reaching into his pants, he frees himself of his restriction in one fluid motion. His long bony fingers come together to clench into a fist in my hair so that I can't pull away from his musk.

With one of his hands still holding himself, his eyes finally leave mine and fall down back to my chest. Casually, he begins to run over my skin. He starts from my collar and down to each side of my torso before ending at my navel. Along the way, he leaves a trail clear warm fluid.

"Open your mouth," he commands, bringing himself to my lips. Out of either stupidity or fear, I willingly obey and it is filled before I even have the chance to exhale my breath.

My jaw begins to fill with pain as he moves in and out of my mouth. I close my eyes to cope with my embarrassment.

"Look at me," his words are strained, yanking my hair. Tears spill from my eyes when I open them. I focus not on the green eyes leering down at me, but the space in between them.

Suddenly, he hoists me up and onto the soft mattress. He adjusts himself between my legs before sliding my undergarment to the side. A devilish smirk crosses his face as he inhales the air like a hungry dog.

"This is going to hurt you," he admits as he roughly pushes into me. Pain sears through my body like a ravaging inferno - as if I'm being torn in half by a titan. Instinctively, I dig my nails into his arms. Tiny spots of red blood form out of the crescent shaped indentions.

The candlelight from the lamps on the wall cast shadows on his face. Rather than seeing the man that I had before, I see the a monster pinning me down about to devour me.

"Stop whimpering!" He bellows, his calloused hand slamming against my mouth. He covers my nose to completely stop my breathing as he starts moving against me faster. In panic, I thrash against him like a wild animal. I claw at his arms and hands with every ounce of the draining energy that I have. More tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision.

An airy grunt escapes him as he removes his hand from my mouth and nose. As I heave in the much needed air, he slides his hands to my hips and lifts them up to his lap. The sounds he makes become more and more like those I heard when we first entered this place as his thrusts grow wilder and faster. With one last grunt, he abruptly stops. Breathing heavily, he grits his teeth and a warmness starts to fill into me.

When it finally stops, he tiredly rolls off of me and onto the bed beside me. Quickly, I make my attempt to move away, but am stopped by his heavy arm slinging over my side.

An audible whimper escapes my lips.

"See?" He whispers into my ear, hot tongue licking its shell. "That wasn't all that bad, was it?"

"N-no…"

"It's something that gets better the more you do it. The more you do what you just did, the better it will feel," he speaks venom into ear, his thumb circling my navel. "You'll even learn to want it."

He lays holding me for what seems like an eternity before rolling over with an obnoxious snore, leaving me alone in consciousness.

 


	2. Chapter Two

The humidity is suffocating. My dark locks stick to my sweat covered forehead and neck. Even the thin and loose skirt I'm wearing makes me feel as if I'm bundled up in a pile of blankets.

Rain from the world above ours seeps down through our earth ceiling. Muddy puddles form in the streets and alleys, splashing up as children play and strays drink from them. In the squares, shady vendors leer at their dirty customers suspiciously - either afraid of being stolen from or afraid of not making enough money to eat themselves.

My eyebrows furrow into a deeper scowl as I continue down the worn dirt path to a particular vendor in the middle. She is an old woman of about sixty years who has a strong hate for my owner. Long ago, when she was young, she'd been a prostitute. After years of being locked away and beaten by him, they say that she finally snapped and murdered him with a kitchen pot.

Her hard expression softens when she sees me approach, though there seems to be a slight bit of sadness in her eyes.

"Good afternoon," I greet, offering a polite smile despite my suffering. The wrinkles in her seasoned skin around her mouth deepen as she smiles.

"Beautiful night," she calls me by the name she's bestowed upon me, offering a small package of warm bread. When I reach into my pocket to fish for coins, she holds her hand up to stop me. "A gift, my dear."

"You can't keep giving me food," I frown, placing two silver pieces down before her. "You've done that the past three times I've been here."

"I am a giver," she shrugs, taking payment from a man who comes up behind me and giving him a rotting apple. Growling, he saunters off. "And you, beautiful night, need my giving."

I bite my lip bashfully, tugging at my skirt to stop it from clinging to my bony legs.

As if he doesn't have an abundance of food, my owner allows me to eat only once a day. Those meals consist of fruits and stale bread and a glass of water. His reasoning behind this was to prevent me from gaining more weight than I already had. Anna, one of my sister wives, often blames it in his obsession of young girls who have not yet flowered. She tells me that this is why he used to force me to wear too small clothing despite my continuous growing.

"There are others who are in much greater need than I," I refute. "Share your gifts with little children who run by here with empty stomachs."

"And what of yours?" She gestures to my being, at my stomach and then the ribs poking through the flesh. "Or will you damn this one to the same fate as the last four?"

Though my eyes burn as if there are tears filling them, they remain dry. I've no more tears to cry over the matter.

Over the past ten years of my being here in the Underground, I've had a total of four pregnancies. None had resulted in a child - having ended only weeks after they'd begun.

"I'm not with child," I deny coolly in an attempt to keep my dignity. Noticing my obvious discomfort, she drops the subject.

In the corner of my eye, I see men in white pants with brown jackets lingering near the entrance of an alleyway. In particular, my alleyway.

For months now, these men have been hanging around the marketplace. While there purpose has yet to be disclosed, we've all assumed that they are here to capture some thug who is interfering with their money.

"I should go. Before my absence is noticed," I say quickly, smiling at the fat old woman once more before starting towards the alley where the policemen are. I clutch the bread against my chest with my head held down as I near them. Hopefully they will ignore me, taking me for a slight weakling who was mentally impaired in some way like everyone else does.

Passing one to the left, he suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm. I yelp accidentally in surprise as my bread falls down into the mud below with a splash. Fearful, I keep my eyes down on the browning package as I involuntarily begin to shake.

"Look at me," the Military Police officer orders me, his voice clear and commanding. "We have some questions."

"I've not done anything!" I nearly shout, finally looking up at him with hot angry tears streaming down my face. His thick grey eyebrows are raised in surprise as if he's taken aback by what I've said. His partner, a younger man with cool blue eyes, watches the exchange indifferently. He appears more interested in what's happening around us than anything else.

"I didn't say you did," he counters with a sly smirk. "However, I'm curious as to why you're acting so…questionable. All I wanted was to know if you knew this person," he shoves his hand into the pocket in his jacket and pulls out a wanted poster with a sketch of a young man with short black hair. "Do you know who this is?"

My mind instantly registers the face of Levi Ackerman. Often when I go to see the old woman at her stand, we would catch sight of him flying over us using the device that the Military Police always had whenever they ventured down from Mitras.

More often than not, however, I'd found him in my home collecting money from my owner.

"No," I answer before I stare too long. "I don't go out too often."

"You wouldn't happen to be lying to us, would you?" The other man speaks up, taking a step towards me. "Because that wouldn't be too wise in your part."

Silently, I take a breath to calm myself.

"I don't know who that is," I repeat myself with a more firm voice. "I have no reason to lie about that."

The man holding my arm releases it, pursing his lips together as if he doesn't believe my statement. "Of course you don't," he smiles in a coy manner. "Who does?"

I look back down at my feet, continuing to pretend that I care about what he's saying. By now, I'm sure that my absence has been noted by the others. By now, he knows and intends to make me pay for it.

"If you do happen to stumble upon him, during your time inside with your back against a mattress, give him a warning, will ya?"

Shoving me deeper into the alley, both policemen turn their attention back to the business of the marketplace. I leave the now soggy bread in its puddle of filth as I start making my way back home.

I hold my hands to my chest as I walk. Regret fills every inch of my being as I think about the beating I'm likely to receive. The immense amount of pain I'll feel.

The laughter of children comes into my earshot much sooner than I'd like. Making two lefts and a right, I find myself standing in front of the house. Through the front window, I can see his wide meaty back fold over itself into wrinkly lumps. They jiggle as he laughs at something being said.

Swallowing a buildup of disgust lodged into my throat, I walk up the steps and enter the house.

"I was just about to send hounds after you;" his dreadful voice fills my ears no sooner than I close the door. The merriment he expressed before I had entered has completely dissipated. I stand stiffly at the door, willing myself not to express any type of fear.

With a labored sigh, the old man grabs hold of his cane to help lift himself out of his chair. By the time he is standing and walking over to me, beads of sweat litter his forehead. I'm quick to look down at my feet.

I don't dare to meet his gaze. I learned that long ago.

As he stops in front of me, the foul odor of his decaying teeth fill my nostrils. It takes everything in my not to step away.

For a long time, he stands there examining me. I'm not sure whether he's contemplating striking me or if this is one of his routine checks.

"Go," he growls, using the wooden stick to point in the direction of his bedroom.

"Yes Daddy," I answer, passing by him. Those are the only two words I've spoken to him in over a decade.

He attempts to follow closely behind me, shutting the door when we're in his bedroom. Above us, we hear the rhythmic creaking of a bed frame as another of his women pleases one of her clients.

Grunting, he sits down on the side of the bed. I lower myself onto my knees to help him undress. I take note of his hardened member and purposefully take my time to avoid the inevitable. He bites his chapped lip slightly as he watches my hands.

After stalling for as long as I possibly could, I'm forced to pull his trousers down. As I do, he suddenly grabs my face to make me look at him. I keep my eyes down on his chin.

I turn my head so that he'll release me. Kicking off his pants and undergarment, he pushes himself back to lay in the middle of the bed. I stand back up and adjust the pillows how he likes them.

"Hurry up."

Turning my back to him, I lower my skirt to free myself of the sweaty garment. Sliding my underwear off, I climb into the bed and straddle him. Like always, his hands grab hold of my nonexistent hips. Lifting myself up a bit, I slide down onto his awaiting member. He sighs loudly as his fat fingers dig into my skin and press at the bones. I keep my gaze locked on the clouds of white pillows as I move on him. He shakes his hands up my sides to squeeze my breasts.

"Look at me," he demands. His hands return to my hips to move me himself.

Uncontrollably, tears begin to stream down my face. I'd never cried when we did this - I'd never allowed myself to.

A deep, animalistic growl escapes his mouth as he pulls me down one last time. He leans his head back into the pillows as he gasps for air. I eagerly get off of him and crawl over to the edge of the bed with my knees drawn to my chest. As his breathing settles back to normal, he reaches out to touch my leg with a clammy hand.

"Get me beer," he orders me before falling into his usual coughing fit. The warm and sticky fluid from him seeps out of me, slowly rolling down my thighs as I take the bottle from the table. Picking a pill out of his bottle of medication, I return to his side. As if he's not had anything to drink in days, he gulps down the liquor with urgency.

I return my gaze to the pillow.

"Something I've never understood," he begins, staring at my face. "You must like it here. You've never tried to run."

When I don't respond, he takes it as an signal to continue.

"Of course though, if you ran, you'd just end up another whore in a brothel. Orientals fetch for a high price, too. Everyone wants a piece of that." He burps and then takes another large gulp, already a tad drunk. "You'd always be busy with clients. So busy, in fact, perhaps you'd be like Anna and have multiple-"

"Do you want another?" I ask, already getting up to get him another bottle. Instead of allowing me to, he takes hold of my ankle and pulls me back down.

"You'd like it though," he whispers to me, close enough that I can smell his breath once more. Before I have the chance to look away, his large hand comes into contact with me. Instinctively touching my cheek, I don't see his fist in time to react as he punches me.

All of the pain that he'd felt to hinder his movements before have completely vanished as he starts raining down hit after hit upon me. I can do nothing but try to cover my face and beg him to stop.

"You think I didn't know?" His voice bellows as he strikes me again. "Whore! Who was it today?"

Every fiber of my being wants to scream my innocence, but I know that it would just make him more upset. So I say nothing.

A choked whimper escapes my throat as his calloused hands grip my neck. I gag with flailing legs. My bloody lips move rapidly as I beg him to let me go, though I hear not a sounds as my ears ring with the rush of blood.

Glass particles splinter over our bodies and the bed as he falls motionless on top of me. Red, almost black, blood oozes out of the side of his head. A large shard of brown glass pierces through the former pale skin of his temple. A mixture of saliva and blood flow from his mouth onto my cleavage.

Vision blurred, I stumble back off of the bed. Try as I might, I cannot make myself look away from the body growing cold on the purple satin sheets. My hands shake rapidly as I reach for my discarded skirt.

"Daddy!" A voice calls from upstairs. I hear heavy footprints start descending down the stairs. Anna is coming.

I look around frantically with nowhere to run. To my right is a broken window that only halfway opens and leads to a muddy street below. To my left is the door. Ten feet away would be the front door and if I ran now, I could get a head start on Anna and my owner's men.

Sucking in air, I yank the door open and sprint towards the door.

My race with death has just begun.


	3. Chapter Three

An uncomfortable silence settles over us. He stands across from me wiping blood from his knife. I stare at the tainted blade, watching as it glints in the light. His cold eyes flicker up to mine. He stops.

“They're gone. Why are you still here?”

“I don't have anywhere to go,” I whisper, looking back down. My hands and feet are covered in mud. Dirty water drips from my matted black hair onto the blood stained dress.

He looks past me towards a window. His steely blue eyes watch as someone or something passes by. I hear their voices but can't make out what's being said.

“Sounds like you're in a shitty situation. That's too bad.”

I bite my lip nervously. I'm sure that there's someone waiting right around the corner from here to kill me for what I've done. Or, if I was lucky, I'd escape them and fall into the hands of someone new. Either way, if I leave this place, my escape will have been all for naught.

“I-I can pay…if that's what you want,” I finally speak. He raises an eyebrow questioningly. His already narrowed eyes narrow more.

I reach into my pocket and produce an envelope almost as dirty as the money in it. I hold it in my hands for a long time before offering it to him.

He doesn't take it.

“How much?”

“I don't know. It's what he had stashed away.”

His small hand snatches the stained envelope from my hands without warning. I gasp and draw my hands back. My head stays down, though I look up expectantly as he counts the money.

His eyes go wide briefly. “Tch,” he clicks his tongue, looking up at me with an unreadable expression. Either there is a considerable amount in it or he's taking pity on me. “Don't ever bring dirt into this place again,” he orders stiffly. “Let's get you cleaned up. You're filthy.”

When he's gotten enough water into a wooden tub, he pulls my rags from my body with one quick motion. I wrap my arms around myself instinctively - wanting myself to look innocent like my owner liked.

“What are you waiting on, brat? Get in,” Levi pushes me towards the tub. He doesn't so much as bat an eyelash at my nakedness.

The lukewarm water immediately starts soaking into my skin. Without having scrubbed at all, dirt floats off of my body into the water. It turns from a clear color to a slightly tinted brown within minutes. I bring my knees to my chest, resting my head against the side. The longer I stay, the more my fingers start to crinkle up.

Levi returns after a while with a bucket of water, a rag, soap, and a towel. He sits on a stool behind me. Wetting the rag, he pours the water onto my head to wet my hair. I close my eyes, leaning back as he uses the soap to wash it.

“Oi, brat,” I feel him nudge me. I open my eyes to him standing with the towel in his outstretched arms. “It's time to get out.”

I pull myself out of the now cold water. He wraps the towel around me and walks out. I dry myself off and briefly stare at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles have formed under my brown eyes. My skin is no longer the ivory color that it had been before the Underground, but a dull grey. I look sickly.

I creep towards the door and poke my head out. Levi leans against the wall to my right, a white shirt in hand. He looks up at me. “Here, brat.”

I take the shirt and scramble to put it on. Even though I'm taller than him, his shirt is still too big.

After making sure each button is closed, I hurry and follow him. The smell of tea fills my nostrils. The closer I move to the end of the hall where he is, I hear another voice. This one speaks in a light manner unlike Levi. They discuss plans to take on a job.

“His legs are starting to go bad. Have you noticed?”

He sips his tea, sitting at the round wooden table. “Yeah, I have.”

“We’ll have to take on more work. It'd be a shame if- Say, what's all this for?” He asks. Levi sets something down onto the table before sitting back down. “We have company?”

“For a time,” he answers. “Until she's well enough to fend for herself.”

“She?” The man asks, voice growing closer to where I'm standing out of sight. I try to scurry back to the bathroom before he can round the corner and see me. When his voice halts, I know that I'm too late.

“I see,” he tells Levi. As he starts to approach me, I feel myself start to quiver in fear.

“Stop hiding in the bathroom, brat,” Levi calls out to me. I quickly turn and pass the other man. His light blue eyes roam my lanky body questioningly as he follows me. I sit in a chair across from Levi. Placed before me is a cup of hot tea, a piece of bread, and an orange. I'm brought to tears.

This is the most I've ever been given.

The man sits in the chair next to Levi. He watches me intently before glancing at Levi. I begin cutting the bread into small portions to be rationed out through the next few days. I can eat the orange now and save the bread.

“I find it shocking that you haven't already died of starvation,” the man tells me. He reaches his hand across the table to mine and I instinctively pull away. He gently smiles.

“Furlan Church,” he introduces himself. “What's your name?”

At first I hesitate. When Levi doesn't speak up to tell me not to, I slowly look up and extend my frail hand to him. “Shizuka…”

He quirks an eyebrow, sitting back and looking at Levi. The darker haired man doesn't look up from his knife.

Within what feels like mere seconds, my orange has disappeared. Nothing remains but the sweet peels.

I'm tempted to devour those too.

“Well, Shizuka, if you stick with us I'm sure you'll be better in no time!” The brunet smiles. It seems genuine and lacks any type of ill intent.

“Levi is quite generous,” I whisper, reaching for the cup of tea. “I'm lucky he even considered allowing me to stay…”

Furlan opens his mouth to say something as I pick up the teacup, lifting it by the brim.

Once, many years ago, my former master had told me to pour drinks for his friends during a business meeting. When I'd tried to give the cup to one, the handle broke off and wine spilled everywhere. I'd never had a beating more severe than that one.

I rise from my seat when finished drinking. Furlan continues filling Levi’s ear with talk of money and jobs. I clean my dishes, careful not to break or chip anything. I stand awkwardly in the corner with my head held down as they continue their discussion. I'm noticed by Levi first.

He stands from his seat, beckoning me to follow him back down the hall.

“Furlan and I are going out for a couple of hours,” he tells me, opening the door to a bedroom. The bed sits against the wall completely neat. There's not a spot of dust or speck of dirt anywhere.

He turns and looks at me with his steely eyes. I look down at my feet.

“Get in the bed, brat,” he instructs me. My heart instantly sinks into my stomach.

Of course there hadn't been enough money.

I slowly begin to unbutton the shirt he's provided me with. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of once again being owned.

“Oi, none of that,” he almost shouts at me. I step away from him out of reach. For a moment, he frowns at me before his expression softens a bit. He sighs.

“…Stay here and rest. When we get back, you can make supper. Think you can manage that?”

I slide under the crisp white sheets with a nod. My shirt begins to slide up to my waist as I wiggle back until pressed against the wall. My eyes never leave his.

He stares down awkwardly at me for a long time. It is as if he's contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to allow me to stay. As if he's questioning if I'm worth the effort.

“I trust I won't have to worry about you wandering off?” He rises finally.

I merely shake my head as a response.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue again. As he turns to walk out, his left foot stops his right and he stumbles. I lower my eyes and pretend not to have noticed.

No sooner than I close my eyes, my mind races back to my owner’s face as he lay motionless. I can still feel the blood on my skin, as if it is still there.

I enjoy it.


	4. Chapter Four

“Levi and I are going out. Are you going to be okay here alone?”

I look up from the knife in my hands. Furlan stands in the doorway with his arms folded. The flames of the candles shine off of the metal of his gear.

“I'm always here alone.”

“Yeah, but we may be gone longer this time. Are you sure you don't wanna tag along?”

“I'm sure,” I confirm, looking back down at Levi’s knife. Despite it having been cleaned hundreds of times, it remains tainted by the amount of blood that's been on it. “Besides, you both are better with the gear than I am. I'd only slow you down.”

Levi passes Furlan to come into the room, his eyes are glued to the weapon in my hands. “Be careful today,” I almost whisper, turning the handle to face him. Wordlessly, he presses his lips to mine and takes the blade. When he doesn't pull away like usual, I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“When do you think you'll be back?” I ask, meeting his gaze. Though I attempt to sound less needy than usual, I fail.

He turns away from me. “Later. Make sure you're here. There's something we should talk about.”

Thinking better than to argue with him, I simply nod my head and follow him into the living room. Furlan stands close to the door as his and Levi’s partners in crime congregate on the furniture. I slide into a chair at the table silently.

Furlan, under Levi’s supervision, tells everyone their plans before they all disperse out into the streets. I'm left alone.

It's been more than a year since I had come to Levi for protection. As it turned out, I didn't kill my owner like I'd thought I had. For weeks, his men roamed the streets searching for me. When they couldn't find me that way, he gave them the okay to start raiding houses and brothels. It wasn't long before gave away having seen me with Levi and Furlan and they came here to retrieve me. That night after they'd left, he got up in the before day and left. His knife had smeared blood on it when he returned in the morning.

I slip on shoes and leave the house. Unlike where I'd been, this side of town is like a ghost town. There are no dirty children with already rotting teeth roaming around or stray dogs looking for scraps of food or corpses. There are no prostitutes entertaining clients upstairs.

There is only silence.

Avoiding stepping into any puddles of dirty water or mud, I make my way towards the marketplace. When I turn the corner, waiting for me is the old bread lady.

“The night has returned,” she speaks as I approach. There is a loaf of bread already waiting for me. I hand her my cloth to wrap it in.

“It's been too long. I was hoping that you wouldn't forget about me.”

She gives me a knowing look, as if I should have known better than say what I did. Rather that giving me just the bread, she throws in two apples and an orange.

Once more, she doesn't charge me.

“Have you ever questioned as to why I gave you such a nickname?” The old lady suddenly asks me. Her cloudy eyes bore into mine as if she's searching for the depths of my soul.

“No. I don't think I have. I assumed it had something to do with my hair.”

She shakes her head no. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth grow more definite as she grins as if she's been told a secret that only she and the teller know.

“When I first saw you, you were like a flower that'd been plucked from a meadow and kept in a room with no light. Unlike that flower, which would certainly have withered away, you've remained in bloom.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I gently laugh, my discomfort clear.

Almost instantly, her expression becomes grave. As she stares into my eyes and it feels as if the entire world has stopped.

Try as I might, I can't bring myself to look away.

“It isn't any of your features,” she whispers, eyes wide like a madwoman. “When I look into your eyes, I see the night. I see darkness. I see…nothing. You have no soul.”

I open my mouth to respond, stumbling over incoherent words. I soon stop, realizing that I don't know what to say at all.

Perhaps this old woman has finally gone senile.

Her sweet, now eerie, smile returns. “Of course, I’m messing with you! Perhaps that was too far?”

“Ah, I thought so,” I return her smile, picking up the bread and fruit. No sooner than a farewell has escaped her lips, I nearly run away from her selling station. As I head home, a mixture of emotions stir in the pit of my stomach. Along with confusion, I’m brimming with anger.

When I turn the corner and the house in is view, Jan is leaving. He walks with a slight limp down the stairs, undoubtedly due to his bad leg. I offer a stiff wave before hurrying inside.

“You're late,” Levi tells me as soon as I take my first step inside. He sits at the table polishing his knife, not once casting me so much as an annoyed glance. Furlan, more than likely having heard me come up the steps, has fled the room. There's not so much as a peep of noise.

Hesitantly, I take a seat in the chair to his right like I always do. Rather than begrudgingly taking my hand into his like normal, Levi’s steely blue eyes stare blankly at my palm before climbing the rest of me. Finally, they rest on mine.

“The lack of light’s taking its toll on you,” he notes. He sets his knife on the table with a small thud! “And we don't have the money for medicine if something goes wrong.”

“Oh…”

My heart stops for a moment before pounding in my chest like a roll of thunder. The pieces that it shatters into are the drops of rain that fall into my stomach.

They burn like fire.

Blinking away nonexistent tears, I hang my head. “I understand. I don't want to become dead weight. I'll go.”

Starting to wipe at the knife again, his eyes leave me. I stand up and go to retrieve my jacket. “I made a deal with one of our clients to put you up somewhere. You'll be taken care of.”

“You trust him that much?”

“Not much of a choice.”

When I don't respond, he gets up from his seat at the table. The chair squawks against the floor. I pull my jacket on and return to the den. Furlan has returned. His expression is unreadable.

“We'll take you,” he breaks into a light smile. It doesn't comfort me.

Without speaking another word, Levi leads us out of the door. We walk for what seems like years with only the occasional drip of water seeping down from the capital. We pass by several emaciated grey bodies laying about in alleyways and street corners. It's almost impossible to tell if they're alive or dead; homeless or merely unable to move.

In a few years, perhaps even sooner, this will be me.

Three shady looking men stand in the middle of building near the 11th Stairway. One is a chubby middle aged man with dark hair and a thin mustache. The other two are lanky young men.

I recall having served him years ago.

Their snickering comes to a stop as we approach.

“Levi? What's going on…?”

“You have the money?” The man questions before he can answer me. Breaking eye contact with Levi for a moment, he looks over at me and smirks. I shoot a glare in response.

“I'll pay after I've seen that the service has been done,” he responds flatly. Furlan stands backing him with his arms folded. His usual charming smile is replaced by a fixed frown to intimidate the men. The leader looks in between the three of us as if trying to decide whether or not he's being duped. Finally, he lets out a light chuckle and raises his hands to mock his surrender.

“Fine, fine! I'll show you.”

Continuing behind the men and Levi, I fall in pace with Furlan. “What's going on? Where are we going?”

A cocky smile graces his lips. Though I can't make them out too well, I know that his eyes are shining. “It's a surprise. You'll ruin it if you keep asking so many questions.”

I roll my eyes, carefully considering all of the possibilities.

Had Levi planned simply to throw me out, he wouldn't have bothered to find somewhere else for me to go. He certainly wouldn't have involved Furlan.

I also know that he couldn't be sending me up there. Even as we ascend up the stairway, I know better than to get my hopes up. The toll goes up seemingly every month. There's no way that Levi or Furlan have that type of money. Especially not to spend on me.

Perhaps, we are going to meet a client. Often, nobles all over Wall Sina want to have things done without dirtying their hands.   
  
Light from the surface grows brighter and brighter the closer we get to it. Despite my situation, I can't help but smile at the thought of standing in the sun again.

The last time that I'd stood free in the sun, I was with my twin.

That was also the last time I've seen him. Eleven years ago.

For a long time, I have to shield my eyes from the rays of sunlight beaming through the entryway onto us. A carriage waits at the top.

“Payment,” the man demands, reaching out his hand to Levi.

Turning to me, he looks up into my eyes with his usual disinterested expression. The feeling from earlier returns. “Oi, brat. What are you waiting for? Go.”

“Go?”

“We don't have all day, kid,” the man butts in, eager to receive a payment so large that he nor his lackeys have to worry about food for the next year.

A man standing outside of the carriage clears his throat, growing impatient.

A hand shoves me forward to the last set of steps separating me from the outside. Looking back, I see that it was Furlan. He takes a step back, barely remaining in the sunlight.

“Stop stalling and go,” Levi says again, shoving the bread and fruits I'd gotten from the crazy old woman into my arms. Before I can protest, he's turned his back to me and is handing over the money.

He's just bought my freedom.

Levi returns to where Furlan is for the three men to take them back down into the underground. Both turn and look at me for a moment as I stand at the top of the stairway. The heat of the sun feels warm and inviting against my skin despite the cool breeze that blows free strands of hair into my face. I fight back tears.

Furlan waves. Levi nods.

And then they disappear.


	5. Chapter Five

The carriage rolls on through the streets of Mitras. Though I've been told several times to sit back and stay out of the window, I can't help myself from staring out. Though they're not paved with gold as so many say in the Underground, there are no pools of mud or garbage anywhere in sight. Noblewomen stroll on the sidewalks in beautiful gowns of every color with either tiny umbrellas with fringe or bonnets to protect them from the luminescent rays of the bright sun. The shops here are not run by vendors in the middle of a busy street. Instead, they are in buildings on either side of the streets - similar to the setup of apartment buildings back home.

I am enchanted.

The driver leads the horses far away from the shops. He drives over a stone bridge that connects the lively area to a vast expanse of meadow. Flowers of blue and white are in abundance. An old waterwheel turns with the rush of water.

A stone castle grows larger the further we get from the shopping district. In contrast to the wonderful dream that is Mitras, inside me rages a dark nightmare. What if Levi was wrong to trust them? What if I'm being taken to yet another man to serve? What if this freedom is simply an illusion?

Passing through an iron gate, the carriage rolls to a stop in front of the castle. Two people dressed in black uniforms with white gloves come from the large wooden doors of the manor. I feel the weight of the carriage shift as the driver steps off. The two servants nod their heads in recognition of him. As he speaks, their eyes shift on occasion to me. Before the driver has the opportunity to notice my disobedience, I pull the curtain back into place.

My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it in my ears. This ceases the muffled voices of the people outside.

The handle on the door turns down and it swings open to reveal the mustached-face of the man who drove me here. He is middle-aged with tan skin and rich brown eyes. Wordlessly, he offers a gloved hand to help me out of my ride.

Too eager to feel the sun once more, I take it and step out onto the stone, holding my bread and fruits to my chest with my other arm.

The woman that he was speaking to steps forward as the man drives the carriage away. She curtsies to me.

“Madeleine will show you to your room,” the tan man’s baritone voice declares from behind me. The woman curtsies again before sauntering back towards the doors. Assuming that she is Madeleine, I follow.

As soon as I step in, the first thing I see is a grand staircase with red steps and railings of gold. Along the walls are portraits of men and women from generations ago. A massive chandelier with glinting crystals hangs above the foyer.

By the time I manage to shake myself from my daze, my escort is already halfway up the stairs. She stops in the middle of the landing and turns her head to look at me. There's an amused smile plastered on her face. I feel myself blush as I rush to catch up.

“Lady Howard offers her sincerest apologies that she couldn't greet you upon your arrival,” Madeleine finally speaks. Her voice is soothing like the sound of running water.

“Who is that?”

She ponders my question for a moment as we turn down a hall. “You can consider her your sponsor. She's the reason you're here, after all.”

“My way up here was paid for,” I stop as she pulls a key from her pocket. She unlocks the door, but doesn't open it as she turns to me. “I don't owe anyone anything.”

“The Stairway Toll merely pays for your passage up. Nothing more.”

I bite my lip, hope draining fast. “What do I need to do to gain citizenship?”

The pretty blonde woman thrusts the key into my hands. Her expression is cool. “Lady Howard will address all of your questions tonight at dinner. In the meantime, you need to bathe. A bath has been drawn for you already. Make sure you wash everything, including behind your ears and neck as well as beneath your fingernails. Leave the rags you're wearing on the floor in the bathroom.”

With that, she spins on her heel and leaves me alone.

Green colored Jacobean wallpaper covers the walls. Wide-set chairs with emerald padding sit with a wooden bookshelf between them. A bed with a dark wooden head and footboard that is curved sits against the far wall. A long bench is at the foot of the bed with a pillow and blanket folded neatly on it.

To the right is a cracked open door. I set my bread and fruit down before hesitantly stepping through the door.

My mind instantly goes to Levi the minute I see how clean it is. Not a speck of dust can be found in the bathroom. As Madeleine mentioned, water is already in a wooden tub waiting for me. Crisp white towels folded with great precision sit on the edge of a marble countertop.

Having been with Levi, almost no dirt comes off of me no matter how hard I scrub my skin. As instructed, I leave my discarded clothes on the floor after I dry off. Waiting on the bed is a purple dress with fresh undergarments. I glance back at my discarded shirt and skirt in the bathroom - a raggedy heap amidst pristine luxury.

I glance at myself in the vanity. Dark locks cling to my face, shoulders, and back. Already my skin has changed from a ghostly grey color to its former ivory tone.

I look and feel as if I’m back to my childhood with Saizo.

“I was hoping you’d at least have your chemise on by now,” Madeleine voices from the doorframe. I calmly look back at her from the mirror and by her expression I can tell that she had expected to startle me. Two women dressed in the same uniform as her stand on either side around two paces behind. These two are much younger than Madeleine, curiously searching my being as if they’d never seen bareness before. “Lady Howard is hosting quite magnate people this evening for dinner. Since you’re here now, she was hoping to at least meet you and prepare you beforehand.”

“Oh I didn’t know,” I apologize. “I’ll be quick.”

Before I’ve taken a step, the two ladies behind Madeleine rush into the room towards the bed. One reaches for a thin white linen gown, tugging it over my head and continuing with the other parts.   
“You may be thinking about how lucky you must be,” Madeleine circles me, occasionally instructing her underlings to tighten the laces of the corset they’re lacing. Each breath that I try to take becomes shorter and shorter. “You may feel that you’ve just come across a windfall, what with you being from the den of thieves and whores. However,” she stops in front of me, her green eyes glowering up into mine, “to stay a resident of Wall Sina, you will earn your place. Many have come before you and lost this all because they couldn’t handle it.”

“How many before me?”

“Perhaps one per year you’ve been alive,” she answers indifferently. “Only one has been successful - a boy before you.”

Though not giving Madeleine the satisfaction of witnessing, I am utterly horrified by this discovery. Lady Howard, whoever she is, has gone through over twenty people like me!

What became of them? What will become of me?

I allow myself to be ushered back over to the vanity. One of the ladies Madeleine has brought, a mousy blonde with big brown eyes and a pointy nose, begins to comb out my hair. There is not one tangle in it and I almost smile.

Levi would be proud.

“Eat some of that bread,” Madeleine orders me. “You will not eat again until very late.”

The other servant girl produces a small plate with butter on it. That too had been a commodity in the Underground. I unroll the cloth that it is wrapped up in and notice a silver knife with an almost translucent blue edge that had not been there when I was with Levi and Furlan. The bread is also hot as if it just came from an oven.

“My advice would be to either make a good impression or none at all. I’m sure you’d much rather not be a disappointment.”

“Of course,” I mutter, reaching for the knife. “I wouldn’t want- Ah!”

A wave of pain courses through my body, starting from the thumb and index fingers that hold the knife. Instinct tells me to drop it, but my hand betrays me.

My entire being soon feels flooded by fire.

_A beacon of light shines in my eyes as if I am staring up at the sun. Flashes of horrified faces flood my sight. In the manner of rain, blood spews from the sky and wets the earth. All around me, men and women shout to one another in a language that I can’t identify, but well understand._

_An oversized palm reaches down towards me, slender fingers wrapping around my frame._

_Fight! Scream! Do something! I scream at myself. Once again, my body betrays me, instead remaining stunned by the shocking sensation in my hand and the surprise from being lifted into the air._

_Only then do I realize that this is a titan. I’m going to die._

I drop the knife.

“…with the Lady Howard. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” I answer without any inclination in my voice. Picking the knife back up, I cut a slice of bread off of the stick. This time, nothing happens.

“Good,” Madeleine looks me over appraisingly. Satisfied enough, she nods.

“Well enough. Let’s not keep Lady Howard waiting.”

As if being chased, we move through the maze of hallways with great haste. Madeleine strides confidently with her nose in the air and hands behind her back. The two girls that came with her walk three paces behind me on either side as if in cadence. Outside, the sky has turned a shade of purple with dark cloud loitering about. The sun peaks over the horizon belting a farewell ballad before it slips away into the abyss.

The aroma of baked chicken fills my nostrils. Down below us, I hear the clicking of dishes being set in on a wooden surface. Servants frantically move about making sure everything is prepped and ready. Maids finish dusting furniture that’s been dusted dozens of times today. The man from earlier barks orders at his underlings, insisting that everything must be perfect. Glancing up at us, he scowls.

“You will wait here. She’ll have you come in when she’s ready for you,” the blonde housemaid dismisses me, turning on her heel and retreating back into the darkness of the house. The other two stand attentively at my side. Both watch their superior fade into blackness with great indifference.

Waiting for my benefactor, I sit down on a wooden bench outside of the door. My hand still stings from the shock I received from that knife. The absolute horror of being lifted and nearly eaten by a titan is for whatever reason lost upon me. When in the moment, I had been terrified. Now, I feel dangerously indifferent.

Perhaps that would be a good thing if faced with such a death.

“You’ve always been so good at portraying no emotions. I believe that will serve you well one day,” a familiar, almost choked, voice cuts through the distant clinking of silverware and porcelain.

My heart instantly stops and I’m standing before I even realize it.

The old woman from the Underground who used to give me bread stands before me. Her old dilapidated clothes are replaced by fine linen with silk laces. Her messy hair is tied away and replaced by a white wig of innumerable curls. Her red lips are pursed as she appraises me. Her posture is pristine. Perfect.

As if she’s spent her entire life in such luxury.

The old woman lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t believe the common tongue has changed…”

“Oh! Ah… I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“It would appear that Madeleine took her precious time once more in delivering,” she waves me off. “My manners! Ah,” she suddenly laughs, her smile small and held back, “this happens when one gets old, my dear. Anyway, welcome to Mitras. I am Lady Howard. While I do wish that I had time to explain everything to you, our esteemed guests from the Military are here. We need to go greet them.”

The capricious old woman does not wait for me to regain my bearings. Looping her arm in mine, she ushers me over towards a back stairwell. It continuously curves, imitating the coil of a resting serpent. Torches line the walls lowly near our heads. I crouch and walk to avoid a lick from the dancing orange flames. Lady Howard, in her tininess, walks proudly with her head held high as if to show some sort of conquering of the threat that the torches are.

“As I mentioned, we will be hosting some esteemed members of the military tonight. I shall handle all of the speaking. All I ask is that you sit and look pretty. Only speak if spoken directly to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but what do you want me-”

“You were away in the Stohess District studying the arts but soon lost interest and decided to return,” she answers, stopping to study my face for a long time. “You want to do something meaningful. Painting portraits clearly wasn’t it.”

“Meaningful as in…?”

“Serving mankind, of course!” She laughs, her eyes bright as if she’s joking and laughing at it. “They’re servicemen after all.”

The standing clock behind her begins to chime in a new hour. Her demeanor changes once again, this time serious. Taking one last sweeping glance at me she nods to the two butlers standing at the large oaken doors before us and with great force, they’re pulled open.

Three men sit in the living area with their backs to us. Lady Howard smile once more, although this one is more fake than before. “Gentlemen,” her guttural voice sings, “welcome to Hever Hall.”

An older looking man with messy shoulder length grey hair and round thin framed glasses is to his feet first. He cracks a calculated smirk at the lady of the house, greeting her with a deep nod. “I started to think you’d forgotten about our meeting,” he speaks to her in a sarcastic tone. The other two watch the exchange. One is short and has a pudgy face with short black hair. A goofy, but courteous smile plasters his face. The other is much taller with brown bangs covering his forehead. His face is fixed in a permanent frown as his amber eyes stare at the back of his superiors head. Both silent men wear the wings of freedom on their jackets.

“This is my daughter Carmen,” Lady Howard introduces me, her eyes momentarily meeting mine. She silently orders me to play along.

I instantly oblige.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I shake hands with the older man. He quickly looks me up and down as if assessing me. I inwardly shudder. It had been years since I’d been looked at in such a way.

“Commander Zackly,” my pretend mother pauses to establish his position, “oversees the operations of the Military Police. He is in charge of them.”

“Of course, that’s common knowledge,” he quickly adds, his eyes locking onto mine suspiciously. “Everyone in Wall Sina would know.”

I lift an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth lifting into a smirk.

If I’m expected to play this game, then I intend to do it well!

“Of course, that is assuming that everyone in Sina runs into trouble with the MPs. You must have had too many run ins with the thugs in the Underground. Up here we are civilized, Commander Zackly.”

He opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a raspy gasp. We both turn to face Lady Howard.

“Sebastian! What a lovely surprise!” She beams, rushing over to the door where a man dressed in the same uniform as the other two men stands. His black hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail that must reach near his back. Pulling out of her embrace, he stands at full height and looks around the room. His chocolate orbs fall onto mine. I nearly faint.

_Saizo…_


	6. Chapter Six

“I hear that survival rates have overall increased among the Regiment,” Lady Howard mentions before sipping out of her glass. “It must be thrilling to have such an…improvement.”

“Of course it is to him,” the man with grey hair and round glasses quickly responds. “It preserves the life of the Scout Regiment for a few more years. Or at least until he’s eaten.”

Lady Howard and the older man laugh. The Commander smiles complacently, as if perfectly fine with being ridiculed. It is almost as if he agrees with them. The tall and intimidating man doesn’t bother hiding his resent towards his commanding officer while Saizo, who Lady Howard has chosen to rename Sebastian, gulps down his brandy each time an insult is spewed.

“Our ventures outside of the walls are as efficient as ever, contrary to popular belief,” my twin finally interjects. Every set of eyes at the table move onto him. His commander turns to face him with a certain look on his face.

He is grateful.

“The Survey Corps is constantly evolving. When first formed, our death rates were near one hundred percent. Over the span of the organization’s existence, through trial and error as well as scientific and engineering experiments, we’ve steadily decreased that number,” he pauses for effect, looking over each and every one of us. “No matter what, any type of warfare - regardless of if it’s human against human or human against titan - will have casualties. It’s the nature of the beast.”

Premier Zackly chuckles slightly. He dips his spoon into the rich soup in the bowl before him. “Well put. What about you, Carmen? What do you think about the Scout Regiment?”

The attention that had been on Saizo turns to me. My blood runs cold. In the short time that I’ve known him, Darius Zackly didn’t strike me as a man who asked a question without having a point to it. How would my answer affect my brother and his comrades? Would it affect them at all? “Forgive me, but I don’t think I’m qualified to have an opinion. I’m not a servicewoman nor am I a taxpayer,” I finally decide to answer.

“Regardless, everyone has an opinion,” Lady Howard responds before he can. “Even if they should not, they do. So what is yours?”

“Well, I think casualties should be expected if they’re leaving the safety of the walls. As my brother has said, it’s the nature of the beast. Besides,” I quickly add when I see the Premier’s frown grow, “the casualties are overall better for humanity. It puts less of a strain on our food resources.”

Silence hangs in the room that can be cut with a dull knife. Everyone, including Saizo and Lady Howard, stare at me in disbelief.

Seeing no point in trying to backtrack, I lower my eyes and continue eating.

Zackly begins to laugh. “How calloused of you! I wouldn’t have taken you as the administrative type.”

“Neither did I,” Saizo strokes his goatee thoughtfully, his honeyed orbs searching mine. “But as mother said, everyone has an opinion.”

“I’m curious, was this…cold demeanor taught to you at this art academy of yours?” Zackly further questions. “I would expect you to care more about human life having been around such…idealistic minds.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” I concede, taking a sip from my wineglass. “Unlike the optimistic person that is imagined, I don’t like to think of myself as such. I’m certainly no pessimist, but I know that nothing is perfect. Humanity can’t expect to gain anything if it isn’t willing to lose something in return.”

“Thus is the purpose in the Scouts,” the commander adds when I’ve finished, eyes returned to his superior and my mother.

“Interesting,” Premier Zackly responds. As he continues to eat, I can tell that he’s genuinely mulling over what I’ve said. 

I can only pray that I’ve left a good impression.

The remainder of dinner passes without much hurrah. Conversation stays between Lady Howard, Darius Zackly, and the commander of the Scout Regiment. From time to time, the tan brunet man is asked something by his commanding officer. His responses, however, are short and precise. As I had predicted earlier, Keith Shadis holds some form of resentment against the Commander.

When everyone has eaten their fill, the servants standing around the edges of the room come to clear the table. Two maids quickly dip into the kitchen, returning with platters of cakes and chocolates.

Having no memories of my life before my kidnapping, I can’t recall if I’ve ever enjoyed such a delicacy as chocolate.

“Excuse me,” Saizo wipes his hands on the pristine napkin that his silverware had been wrapped in, “but I desperately need a smoke. Carmen, come with me.”

In a sweeping manner, he turns and walks out of the dining room with me in tow. His silky black hair sways with each stride. His face displays utter confidence, though without pompous.

We step out onto a balcony right off of the hall. The warmth from the sun earlier still heats the Walls.

Closing the door behind us, Saizo turns to face me. Before I can open my mouth to speak, we’ve wrapped one another in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into my ear. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears fill my eyes with the speed of water pouring out of a broken floodgate. Memories of my years in the Underground - truthfully, the only memories that I have at all - flood into my mind all at once. I think back on my time under my master’s control. Countless nights I’d spent crushed beneath his drunken and repugnant being as he slept, dreaming of standing in the sun again with my twin brother. I think back on the four pregnancies that I had and failed to bring to term. Each time that I began to bleed again - each would-be child that was discarded out in the street like piss - I died a little more inside. By the last bloody mess, there was nothing left in me.

No tears fall.

“It’s fine,” I manage to squeak out. My voice is noticeably colder than I’d intended and I worry that he will mistake it for anger.

“Shizuka…you must believe me in that I searched high and low for you. I walked the streets of Shiganshina day and night looking for you-”

“How did you end up here? How did Lady Howard find you? Why did you join the Scouts?”

A labored sigh escapes his lips as he ushers me over to a bench. Reaching into his jacket, he removes a container of cigarettes and lights one with a match. He takes a long drag before opening his mouth to continue. “One day, a lady in a carriage happened upon my path. She wanted me to go with her and so I did. That lady just so happened to be Kristen Howard. As far as joining the Scouts,” he pauses with his dark eyes glued to his cigarette, “I hated myself and I needed to repent. Plus, she made me.”

“What, you just follow random strangers now?” I joke to lighten the mood. He looks up at me and smiles with shining eyes.

“Of course! You know that I like adventure.”

“You said that she made you join the Scouts. Why?”

My brother’s face suddenly grows dark as he flicks his smoke onto the ground and grinds it into the stone with his boot. “Never mistake the Lady Howard’s actions as kindness. She is anything but. The Premier and Kristen make bets on the outcomes of the expeditions we have. She finds weak orphans in the streets and offers them safety here in the interior. As soon as the Training Corps opens for recruits, she ships you off. If you make it to graduation, you join the Scouts.”

I frown, thinking about how long she was in the Underground selling fruits and bread. How could someone so wealthy sell themselves so well? Why did everyone tell that story about her and her abuser? Was it all just a facade she was putting on for me and the others like me? Are there others like me?

Did she spend all those years down there just for me?

“You’ll leave with us tomorrow to head to training,” he continues, looking out at the wealthy district that we overlook. “I heard that you learned how to use the omni directional mobility gear.”

I nod. “I know how to use it, but I’m not great.”

“Neither are the other cadets. You’ll learn to be better just as they will-”

“Fine, but I have more questions. Why did-”

“I sent her,” he answers my question before I’ve finished. “My sources in the MP’s located you and I told her that I had a twin. As I’m sure you know by now, our kind are rare. Everyone wants to claim us.”

In the far distance, a bell tower begins to sound and signal the passing of yesterday to midnight.

Saizo stands.

“Come, I’ll take you back to your room.”

Wordlessly, I follow my twin down the maze of hallways. My brain has been filled with so much new information that a headache has formed.

“Here you are…Carmen,” a smirk tugs at his lips as he opens the door for me. Inside, two of the handmaids that accompanied Madeleine and I are sitting around a table shuffling through playing cards. They stand with their heads bowed when we enter, as if he and I are royalty. A purple satin robe lies across the bed and a brush sits on the vanity. The bread is gone and so is the knife.

I wrap my arms around my brother once again, taking in his strong scent of tobacco. His chapped lips caress my cheek before he brings them to my ear.

“Do not think to cross Mother-”

“Mother?”

“Yes. You will always call her that from now on. Do not cross her. The last girl who did ended up strangled by ODM cables in the barracks. It was no accident.”

He starts to move away. I grab his hand to stop him when he’s half out of the door. “How do you know?”

Saizo smirks, bringing his face only centimeters away from mine.

I hold my breath.

“Who do you think carried it out?”

**Author's Note:**

> So that no one is confused, I decided to turn the unknown events of The Other Side of Midnight into its own story. This is pretty much the story of the reader's mother and the backstory to the prologue.


End file.
